In their own words...
The idea that I would someday be adopted was entirely unexpected. I lived most of my life (with the exception of going in and out of foster care) with my biological mother. I have two younger half-siblings that I never had the privilege of living with full time. The three of us have different fathers, so the last time I went to foster care (at 10 years old), I was sure that they had a place to stay. On the other hand, my so called "father" lived all the way in Sacramento, California with his parents, which meant another excursion through foster care not knowing that I was also on my way to being adopted. Lucky for me, I only had to go through three foster homes before I reached my adoptive family. My whole life my only wish was to have a family- a real one which I know can have many different meanings to different people. But I wanted a “mother” who wouldn't leave me home alone until close to 11:30 at night, just to go to bed. I never had a father, well, at least not a permanent one.
One time when I was little, I was invited to a Hanukkah gathering at a distant cousin’s household, and decided to attend. I remember sitting on Tony's (my adoptive father) lap and telling him I wanted to live there, and wanted HIM to be my dad. I very soon gave up hope of the idea, but here I am now- I've been living in this very house that I thought could only be a dream, for five years. However, the process was no walk in the park. I constantly went through confusion- deciding whether I wanted to move back with my biological mother (in which I was in denial about since she was obviously unapt to take care of me- let alone herself) or make the final decision to be adopted by my dream family. As time went by, Sue would call me less and less...the last time I had ever spoken to her was the birthday phone call on May 25, 2003. Later that year while I was on summer vacation, I got the unpleasant news of Sue’s death. On the bright side, her death made the adoption process much easier. Even though I on my way to being adopted, I was still having a torn feelings whether to go on with it because I still loved her, and had a certain loyalty to her (even though she didn’t deserve it). By November that year, at 13 years old, I cried right in that court room as the very last signature was signed by the judge, finalizing my adoption. At that moment, I felt as if I was the luckiest girl in the world.
I now had everything in a family I had ever wished for. TWO parents both that support me and show their love for me as well as two brothers I usually get along with. I love them all very much, and appreciate everything they’ve done for me. I guess all those candles I blew out weren't a waste after all.